Black Coffee
by Blue Quartz Foxy
Summary: Based on FMAB. Pre Series Black coffee in a tin cup. Cracked heirloom china. And meaningful small talk in the middle of a war. Roy/Riza


Title: Black Coffee  
Fandom: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood (FMAB)  
Character/Pairing: Roy/Riza  
Theme: January 9 (But she's just like a maze)  
Rating: PG/K+  
Word Count: 1,156  
Notes: Pre-series. Originally posted at Daily_Lyric Live Journal

Disclaimer: I do not own rights to Full Metal Alchemist, characters included.

Firewood crackled, orange-yellow flames greedily devouring the wood. A starry sky above, a fat grinning crescent of a moon against the dotted background. The desert had an eerie beauty to it at night, with silver shifting sand and small wildlife stirring to life. Yet, the moving shadows could as easily be the enemy as it could be a wild hare. Therefore, appreciation for exotic aesthetics was overpowered by hyper-vigilance.

Sleepy eyes slowly closed. She was so tired and her mind was miles away and years in the past.

The floorboards creaked, when foot-pressure was applied. Warm sunlight from a dirty curtain-less window. Eggs sizzled inside the pan. The blanket draped over the body seated at the table, slipped to settle around his back, then continued to creep lower.

When the eggs were ready, Riza gently nudged the 'guest' awake, gingerly moving open alchemy books and impatient scribblings. A boy determined to grow up faster than anyone else. Someone who thirsted for more, than the simple countryside lifestyle.

At the time, Riza had no idea that she and her father would be a vehicle, to get Roy where he wanted to be.

She was just barely conscious, when the thudding of footsteps on sand; jerked the chain of Riza's reflex's. The gun was already up from her side, propped on a sore-from-recoil shoulder; before brown eyes even cracked open.

While her eyesight adjusted to dim firelight, Riza kept her finger on the trigger. It proved to be a false alarm, as the fuzzy outline of some unnamed enemy, molted into a familiar face.

He didn't say anything. Only holding out a tin cup of...something liquid like, as if it was a peace offering, so she wouldn't shoot. Not that she would.

Riza lowered the gun then accepted the cup, muscles screaming in protest to the slightest movement. Without asking permission, Roy threw his gear bag down next to Riza's and followed her example by sitting on top of the stuffed canvas.

Close enough to touch, but still too far away. Riza lost in her memories. Roy replying the events of today. Somehow, their two different trains of thoughts, silently intersected and met at the same places. Silence made itself comfortable around the pair, until Riza raised the tin cup to her lips.

It was a lukewarm flood of very bitter liquid. Surprised by the acidic taste, Riza coughed, spitting some of back into the cup, while the rest was reluctantly swallowed.

"You okay?" Roy asked, hand hovering just over her back, as though unsure. It was this hesitance, which made Riza sit up straight and look him in the eye. What happened today, it weighted heavily on everyone's mind.

All those mangled bodies. The needless and wanton destruction. It shook many's remaining faith in the institution they served. Riza for one, questioned many times what she really was fighting for. After that man...no that monster Kimblee, was unleashed on the Ishbal village; she questioned the war.

Until now though, she hadn't given a second thought on what the incident would do to Roy. His hand fell away, elbows propped on knees, his gaze wandering away from her silent appeal, looking at the fire. The words were there, but how to phrase everything, bothered Riza more than the questions. Playing the conversations inside her head, each beginning sounded like an accusation.

Like she was worried he was becoming weak. That would never be the case. Riza knew, he'd never fall that far, be that corrupted by power; to disregard human life. Roy was not that kind of person. He was not Kimblee, would never be like that man. However, thinking such noble words and saying them aloud, were two different things.

"I should get more firewood. I'll be back..."

'You won't. You're going away. To think without me sitting beside you, pressuring you.' Riza thought, golden eyes down cast; hands still holding the cup.

She could turn the tables and play the damsel. A weak and cowardly woman seeking comfort in a man's arms. Roy was used to those kind of females. And being around him enough, Riza was confident she could carry on a masquerade of helplessness.

'I'm scared. Please stay.'

Just thinking about putting on such an act felt wrong. False. And bitter, just like the warm and unsweetened coffee.

The coffee...

After much prodding with the flipping end of the spatula, the guest woke up with a groan. His dark eyes squinted against the sunlight, fingers instantly reaching up to massage away a pounding headache. The young man groaned, just as Riza poured black coffee into a faded blue-china cup.

Coming to his senses, Roy looked down at the plate before him. Next, to the cook.

"You didn't have to make me anything..."

She turned quickly, pushing the plate away from him, "In that case, this is my breakfast."

For a second, he seemed utterly confused. The bewildered look gradually dissipated. His eyes lost their deer-in-headlights-glaze, taking on a flint like quality. Riza stood by the stove, watching as Roy reached across the table, stealing the plate and silverware. Without so much as a thank you, he dug into the hot meal, a smirk in between bites.

"Ah, my breakfast. Whatever shall I do? Guess I'll just have to make more." was her deadpan reply. He silently gloated for another minute, before it sank in that he had been 'tricked'. Her back to the table, the only signal given Roy was on to her, was the clattering of the fork.

Roy was no longer a teenager hell-bent on appeasing her father, just for a scrap of his knowledge of Alchemy. Yet, if she played her cards right, Riza knew how to get him to return to this camp-site.

"While you're up..." she shoved the cup into a relaxed hand.

Riza looked up, once again catching his quizzical expression, "get me a better cup of coffee. With some sugar, if you can find any."

Roy didn't have to say how impossible it would be to find sugar. They both knew, military rations wouldn't allow such a luxury. The corners of his lips twitched into a smirk, "Shouldn't that be my line?"

"You haven't been promoted, yet." Riza said coolly.

A chuckle followed up his smirk, "Right, right. Besides, I wouldn't waste you on minor tasks, like fetching coffee."

Now, was the time to say what was on her mind.

"I know you won't. You're...not that sort of person."

Though it seemed like small talk, in terms of context; her words were exactly what Roy needed to hear. It was simple. It was enough.  
–

Notes: Thank you for reading!


End file.
